


Mercy

by The_lazy_eye



Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, If You Squint - Freeform, Light Bondage, PWP without Porn, Shameless Smut, They're just stupidly in love okay?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:14:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23073799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_lazy_eye/pseuds/The_lazy_eye
Summary: And now here he was, hardly deserving of the Goddess above him. He worships the ground she walks on, ready to serve and be commanded until his dying days. She could walk to the ends of the Earth and he’d follow. Every move she makes, every choice she settles on, he’d support her. And by God, if she wants to play his body like a fiddle just for the sheer enjoyment of watching him squirm, he’s going to let her.
Relationships: Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley
Comments: 19
Kudos: 184
Collections: Shirbert smut





	Mercy

It’s a precarious situation he’s found himself in. His shirt is long gone, tossed somewhere into the sea of carpet in their room. His arms are useless above his head, a simple binding keeping them locked against the headboard. And above him, as if she’s floating down from heaven itself, kneels his Anne. She looks divine, if not a tad mischievous as she watches him. 

“Well, well,” She says as if she has nothing to do with their position. “What have we here?”

“Nothing,” He says cheekily. He can’t help it, he wants so badly to goad her into making her next move. 

They’ve been like this for a little while now. It began as nothing but a heated make out session in the kitchen that lead them into the bedroom, Anne clad in nothing but sweatpants and her bra and Gilbert tied down and almost gagged for his impertinence when he teased her. 

“Nothing much?” 

“I don’t believe so, unless you count being held captive as something.”

“That depends,” She says, leaning down into his space. “Are you being held against your will?”

“Oh, quite the opposite.”

“Then I see no problems here, Mr. Blythe.”

She kisses him heartily, doing wonderous things to his sanity. Every feel of her against him is like silk, her soft skin brushing against his own. He nips at her lower lip, dragging it into his mouth and sucking slightly in the way he knows she loves. It works to draw a small noise from her and he revels in the victory before she pulls back. 

“Oh, no,” She tuts, backing just out of reach. He cranes his neck to follow her but finds himself mere inches away and unable to do anything about it, not with those binds she’s got his wrists in. “No, you don’t.”

He can’t help the sharp whimper that escapes the back of his throat. Her words wrap around his chest like a vice, squashing any semblance of coherency he had left. 

“Anne,” He sighs, but she pays him no mind, more than happy to sit back on his thighs and watch him. She looks almost bored and he would have half a mind to feel embarrassed if he wasn’t so turned on. 

Her eyes roam his body. He feels the line they trace down his neck and across his bare chest. Slowly, she scans his lower stomach and almost seems to linger on the trail of hair that leads into his jeans. He can’t tell what’s going on behind her lips and he wants so desperately to know. What does she think of him? Is he attractive or has she found nothing but disappointment under his shirt? Will she be disappointed further? Unconsciously, he tugs at his bindings. 

He’s so warm it’s as if the entire room is burning up. He can feel the flush of his face scorch down his chest and he’s dimly aware he’s sweating under her scrutiny. It’s agonizing, it’s painful, but it’s also _thrilling._

“ _Anne_ ,” He says again, only a hint of his desperation seeping into his voice. “Tell me what you want. Tell me and I’ll do it. I’ll do anything.”

And he would. She could ask him to get on his knees and worship her and he would. 

“Oh, Gilbert,” She hums, bringing one hand up to trace over his collarbone and then down his chest. It stops, tweaking one of his nipples and causing him to twist under her, gasping in surprise. “Anything at all?”

“ _Anything_.” His voice is nothing but a rasp as she continues her ministrations. It only gets worse when she wiggles her hips, grinding down onto him with hardly any pressure. It’s painful, how hard he is, and he can’t help but buck up against her to chase the warmth and friction her body offers. 

“Spell libidinous,” She says casually. 

“What?” His mind is too cloudy to comprehend her words. Her voice is smooth and unbothered as if they’re having a normal conversation and it nearly drives him up the wall as he tugs weakly at his restraints. 

“I said,” She hums, leaning down until he can feel her breath fan across his face, “Spell _libidinous_.”

Knowing better than to argue, he closes his eyes and whispers, “L-I-B-I-D-I-N-O-U-S. Libidinous.”

She hums, approvingly this time, and wiggles once again. An involuntary moan escapes his lips as he leads his head fall back into the pillows. It seems to be his reward because she presses down firmer than she had before and gives one long, slow roll of her hips. 

Her hands settle firmly on his chest as she leans over him, a wicked look in her eyes. He practically shivers under the heat of it, unable to do much besides meet her movements with his own hips. 

They continue like that for a moment, her rocking steadily on top of him and him gaping up at her, desperate to reach out and do _anything_ but unable to. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that if he asked she would untie him. Part of him wants to because then he’d be able to run his hands up and down her sides, slip her bra off over her head, pin her to the mattress and have his way with her. But he also can’t deny the shocks that run up and down the base of his spine at how helpless he is – how _in control_ she is. Its freeing to be able to give himself to her so utterly and so completely. He’s been doing it for so long in so many other ways; this way only makes sense, too. 

Without warning, she lifts herself up and off of him. The sudden lack of warmth leaves him gasping and bucking into empty air, chasing the friction he’s so desperate for. Again, he whimpers. It wasn’t nearly enough to give him the relief he sought, but at least it was something. 

His lower lip trembles as he tries to get his body back into check. It takes three deep breaths until his hips stop bucking, then another three until he feels himself start to cool. Above him, Anne bites back a giggle. “Aw, what’s the matter?”

He doesn’t answer – he can’t. Any and every word he might say is caught in the back of his throat, weighed down by a thick spoonful of honey. The only noises he’s capable of right now are too embarrassing to make, so he clamps his mouth shut and stares up at her. 

“You’re so quiet tonight,” She says, leaning down to press a searing kiss to the line of his jaw. “Cat got your tongue?”

He shakes his head, only confirming her accusation, and she laughs into his neck. It’s a bright and cheery noise, contradicting the overall tone of the room. 

She continues kissing him, nipping at the sensitive skin behind his ear before making her way to his lips. When she reaches them, he can’t help the hunger with which he meets her. He’s desperate and too worked up to worry about anything else except the feel of her lips sliding against his. When she slips her tongue into his mouth, he practically growls and arches off the bed to press into her.

They kiss for what feels like hours, to the point where the pleasure fades into slight discomfort. He’s straining against his jeans, pressing into the zipper. No matter how much he ruts up, he’s plateaued into a frustrating standstill.

Just as suddenly as before, she lifts off of him and out of reach. 

“Anne!” He shouts, exasperation evident in his voice. She’s coy with her smile and it’s clear to him that she knows exactly what effect she has on him. She knows she’s winning. 

Somewhere along the way, she’d taken her bra off and now sits clad only in her sweatpants. The sight is breathtaking and it makes him forget his frustration for only a moment. Freckles decorate her porcelain smooth skin and within them he sees all the patterns he’s traced over them in the past decade. The striking contrast of her red hair against her skin never fails to leave him speechless. 

In any other context he’d have buried his fingers in her mane hours ago. Sometimes, when they’re relaxing together in the evening or early light of a shared day off, he braids her hair into magnificent patterns. When he’d first picked up this habit, he was horrendous. She laughed and laughed at the loose and messy braids he created. Now, with years of practice under his belt, he’s able to braid her hair into intricate styles that wrap around her crown or flow down her back. Sometimes, he simply creates twin braids that rest over her shoulders and he’s reminded of the young girl who stole his heart in that tiny classroom, so long ago. Silently, with her pressed to his chest he relives the years they’ve shared and the journeys they’ve been on. 

In the present, she giggles and leans back down into his space, whispering, “Spell prurient.”

He takes one deep breath, then another, before spelling the word. He goes slowly, careful not to mess it up. He knows the reward he’ll get for his achievement, but dares not to risk the punishment of getting it wrong. 

“Good,” She praises. Her fingers run through the sweat damp curls on his head, tugging lightly at the base of his neck. 

Swiftly, with her other hand, she pops the button on his jeans and flicks the zipper down. Both his jeans and boxers come off with one solid motion and his exposed cock springs from its confines. It stands pointed erect against his stomach, small beads of precum already forming at the tip. A sigh of relief escapes his lips at the newfound freedom. _Little rewards_ , he tells himself. 

Her tongue darts out and wets her bottom lip, probably absentmindedly. It feels like another part of her torture scheme. His eyes watch those lips as they spread into a soft grin and then lower _ever so slowly_ toward him. 

Air stutters in and out of his chest the closer she gets and he can feel her breath before he feels her. It’s teasing at first, only a gentle kiss to the head that trails into more kisses down the shaft. Her tongue traces up the length and then swirls around the lip. All the while, her eyes stay trained on him, watching his reaction. 

His lower lip is swollen and raw with how hard he’s biting into it. The pain is nothing but an afterthought to the pleasure of her finally taking him into her mouth. 

“Oh, god,” He whimpers again, not even a little ashamed of his desperation. All of his composure has gone out the window as his head rolls back and she sinks further down. He pants in time with her movements, small moans escaping between his teeth.

She pulls off of him with a pop, her hand continuing to work him as she sucks in a gasp of air. The sight of her is sinful; her lips are red and glossy with spit and her eyes are burning into his. Slowly, she slips her tongue out and kitten licks the tip. “Concupiscent,” is all she says before sinking back down. 

His hands clutch at the binds as he tries to clear his head. The wet warmth of her mouth sets a steady rhythm. To say it’s distracting would be framing it lightly. He can hardly form a coherent thought, let alone spell whichever blasted word she demands of him. Still, though, he tries. _He knows this one._

“C-O-N,”

She sinks further down and he chokes, shaking with the effort it takes not to thrust up into her. 

“C-U-P-I,”

Her tongue laves at the underside of his cock, paying extra attention to the sensitive bundle of nerves. She’s trying to make this as difficult as possible for him and it’s working. He wants to give up on the word and give into her pleasure, but there’s a competitive nature within him that won’t die down. He knows that if he doesn’t spell this word, she’ll never let him live it down. No matter how unfair she’s being. 

“S-C-E-N,”

She pulls off of him and stops moving her hand. The way that she’s staring at him is intent and it threatens to burn him up from the inside out. Her breath ghosts over him and forces a shudder to run up and down his spine. 

“T,” He finishes, and then proudly – _boldly_ – he shouts, “Ha!”

His outburst forces a smirk to break out across her face and she looks delighted and, dare he say it, _proud_ of him. They smile at each other for a moment, both of them out of breath, before Anne suddenly sinks down and takes all of him into her mouth. 

The surprise of it punches a groan out of the back of his throat and he bucks his hips up uncontrollably. Anne takes it, pressing her nose into the soft hairs at the base of his cock before coming up for air. She does this two more times, both times staying down for just a little longer. He can feel the way her throat contracts around him, so tight and wet and _fuck_. It’s almost too much and he tells her as much when she hums and causes small vibrations to ripple through him like tiny shocks to his system. 

When she comes up the third time, she’s completely out of breath. He watches as her chest rises rapidly and she wipes at the tears forming in her eyes. He’s about to ask her if she’s okay when she smiles and says, “Good job with that word, I thought for sure I had you.”

He laughs around his delirium and for a second, he wonders how the hell he ever got a girl like Anne to fall in love with him. She’s _perfect_ and more than anything he could ever ask for in this world. Sure, he was popular in grade school but he’d always been so quiet. He remembers spending the years following his father’s death in a haze, always feeling so lost and confused. It took so long for him to figure himself out, so long for Anne to forgive him for the ignorance of his youth. 

And now here he was, hardly deserving of the Goddess above him. He worships the ground she walks on, ready to serve and be commanded until his dying days. She could walk to the ends of the Earth and he’d follow. Every move she makes, every choice she settles on, he’d support her. And by God, if she wants to play his body like a fiddle just for the sheer enjoyment of watching him squirm, he’s going to let her. 

He watches as she slips off of him and stands at the edge of the bed. For a moment, he thinks she’s going to walk out and leave him to suffer like this. He wouldn’t put it past her to put him through such torture, but he also knows she would come back and finish what she started. She’d merely toy with him for a little while, get him hot and bothered before finishing him off. He almost laughs at the thought, he’s already hot and bothered! There’s no need to put him through even more just to get what she wants. She’s already got him. 

She doesn’t leave. Leisurely, she hooks her fingers in the waistband of her pants and pushes them down. With his full attention trained on the milky white skin of her hips, her pants pool around her ankles. She winks and takes him back into her hand, pumping him steadily and drawing another noise of desperation out of him. 

Without removing her hand, she climbs back into his lap and positions herself right above him. Distractedly, she rubs the tip of him against her folds and he can feel how wet she is, how _soft and warm and wanting_ she is. She’s going to kill him. This is his last moment, he swears it. It’s too much, watching her on her knees above him with that crooked smile and soft eyes. So powerful yet open at the same time. 

“Do you think you’ve been good enough?” She wonders, hardly directing the question to him. He nods even though he knows she’s not looking at him. “Do you think you earned me?”

“Please,” He groans, hips flexing into her gentle touch. The tip of him sinks ever so slightly into her and he’s helpless to the noise that escapes his lips. If the intrusion startles her, she doesn’t show it. Instead, she continues to lazily stroke him.

“I love seeing you like this, all needy and vulnerable. You look so,” She pauses, eyes scanning over him, “Pretty.”

The way she says it is so finite that even though he wants to argue, he knows he can’t dispute her. 

“You, Gilbert Blythe, are pretty.” She giggles this time, and the look that comes over her is so incandescent he forgets how to breathe. Strands of copper red hair frame her face and her grey eyes sparkle in the dim lighting of their room. “And I love you.”

“I love you, too,” He echoes. 

He does. He loves her. He loves her so much. 

“I love you so, Gil,” She continues. “Like this and like all other moments. You are my first and last thoughts of the day. You are the one I wish to share every moment with. You are the only one I could ever share this part of myself with. I trust you with my entire being.”

Thick emotion swells in his chest and spills up into his throat and mouth. He doesn’t bother trying to swallow it down. It’s no use. He’s never been able to push anything down when it comes to her and over the years he’s just learned to let it bathe him. 

“You are the keeper of the key to my heart,” He says. “You are the only person who I trust to tie me down and keep me safe at the same time. I would never hurt you, never purposefully. And I know you would never hurt me.” When she brushes her hair over her ear, a glint of light catches the wedding band on her finger and his breath catches. “I was no one until I met you. You’ve taught me how to feel, how to see, how to _breathe_. All the beauty in the world resides within you, Anne-girl.”

Her grip around him tightens ever so slightly and draws another groan from deep within his chest. 

“ _Mercy_ , Queen Anne,” He moons. 

She grins down at him, still absently rubbing his tip against her entrance, before she says, “M-E-R-C-Y.”

He chuckles softly, wanting nothing more than to reach up tuck her hair behind her ear for her. He wants to run his hands down her body, feel the soft warmth of her skin and memorize every dip of her body. He settles for gripping his bindings as she sinks down onto him. 

Slowly, her warmth envelopes him. Inch by torturous inch she sinks down until he’s fully sheathed within her. They both take a few seconds to catch their breath, to adjust to the new sensations. 

No matter how many times they do this, there’s no getting used to it. Every single time feels like the first. A surge of emotion crashes over him as they come together, melded into one synchronized being. Anne and Gilbert. Gilbert and Anne. It’s just so _right_ , so meant to be. She’s it for him, for the rest of forever. She could chew him up and spit him out and it’d still be her. Always has been, always will be. 

“So beautiful,” He murmurs as she lifts herself up, then sinks back down. 

She sighs at the sensation of being filled so thoroughly at the same time he groans. Just like with everything else, they fall into a smooth rhythm. She crashes down and he meets her, wave after wave. 

“So perfect, Anne.”

She still grins that Cheshire grin, the one that tells him she’s still in complete control. The pace she sets is slow, almost agonizingly slow and not nearly enough to get either of them to the peak. Any restraint he possessed at the beginning of this has completely dissolved and he can’t bother to stop the noises falling from his lips, every moan and whimper and pleas comes out. He knows his eyes must have glazed over by now, rolled so far back into his head as his brow creases up in desperation. She looks at him as though she’s trying to memorize every inch of his skin. 

He memorizes her, too. The soft rise and fall of her chest, the way her hair spills over her shoulders, how her own brow crinkles with pleasure when he hits _that spot_ within her. It’s so much but not enough at the same time. He pushes up against her, meets her hips mid thrust and pulls a soft gasp from her rosebud lips. 

_“Anne.”_

Her pace quickens, just a little bit, and she gyrates her hips in that way she knows he can’t handle. She’s trying to push him there first. It would be the ultimate victory in a game they’ve played thousands of times. Who will triumph in this quest for power? Who will come out on top, victorious in their quest and cocky with their bragging rights?

He wants to reach out and touch her, bring her over the edge himself, but he can’t so he settles for the only other option. 

“Touch yourself.” It’s not a command, nor is it a question. Mostly, it’s a feeble request, a _plea_ for her to sink into the feeling of them together in this way. 

“No,” She says, voice firm. He’s about to interrupt her, beg her to use him for all he has but she continues with, “This is enough. Just like this.”

Her voice is nothing but a whisper, reverent in the low lamp light. It sounds like an orison and it makes him want to spill his devotion to her all over the bedsheets. 

Finally, whatever competition was going on between them dies as she gives in to her own pleasure. Her eyes close as she throws her head back, moans falling from her mouth as she continues to rock down. He fucks up into her in time with her thrusts, desperate to push her over the edge before he spills over himself. She’s close, too, judging by the way she’s clenching her fists. 

“Do you feel good?” He asks. She nods, eyes still closed in pleasure above him. “Good, my love. Want you to feel good, always want you to feel good. Are you close?”

She nods again. Any rhythm they’ve set begins to dissolve into frantic thrusts. He thrusts up harder until the only sounds in the room are the lewd sounds of skin on skin mixing with their moans. 

“Gil,” She whines, “Gil, _please_.”

And then she’s gone, tightening around him and shaking. She looks blissful as it washes over her. He doesn’t stop his thrusts, helping her ride it out and then chasing his own pleasure selfishly. It’s not long until he finishes with a cry, head falling back onto the pillows and eyes clenching shut. His orgasm rips through his entire body until he sees nothing but Anne above him, smiling that radiant smile.

She’s quick to undo the binds. Once his hands are free, he pulls them to his chest and flexes the sore muscles of his bicep, shaking out the tension. She rubs his wrists delicately. One at a time, she brings them up to her lips for a gentle kiss before curling into his side. 

The room is silent except for their breathing while she continues to press kisses onto any patch of skin she can reach. 

“I love you,” She repeats over and over again like a mantra and he pulls her closer to him, trying to weld them together into one singular being. 

They fall asleep like that, pressed together while the sun sets outside. Hours later, he wakes and slips out of bed, careful not to wake her. 

When he returns, it’s with two cups of tea and a grilled cheese to share. 

“I rented Pride and Prejudice.” His whisper causes her to stir and she bestows upon him a sleepy smile. He files it under _most beautiful sites in the world_. 

He can’t help but bask in the afterglow of her love and count his blessing with each passing second. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hello I’m back! With entirely self indulgent Shirbert smut that was heavily inspired by several works I’ve stumbled upon in this fandom! I really couldn’t resist bringing this to life. Thank you so much for reading!!
> 
> To give some world building, they’re roughly 28/30 in this fic and have been together since the beginning of college and married for several years at this point. This is not a new scene for them and they’re well versed in the other’s desires and pleasures. No children (yet) but they have a cozy house in a small town where Gil practices medicine with his newly acquired license and Anne teaches. 
> 
> I have two very persistent head cannons for this couple. One, is that Anne is very sure headed and, given the approval from the ones she loves, she will boldly go ahead with anything. She is very bold and has no issues pursuing what she wants. With matters so vulnerable as this, she requires both explicit approval and consent as well as a strong sense of control (this stems from how I conceptualize her PTSD). This sense of control manifests itself in the bedroom. It’s not always like this (bondage and dominating) but she always has a say in what happens (as everyone should) and she does call the shots. No matter the position. 
> 
> The second HC is that Gilbert would do anything for her. He'd give up all control in the world and do so happily. He's more than content to let Anne do as she pleases so long as it pleases her. He is 100% a sub. Anne could do ANYTHING to him and he'd let her. He just loves her so fucking much, man. And he's much more passive than she is with most things. He lets her win the spelling bee, he helps her lead the freedom of speech thing, he supports every single endeavor she's ever embarked on. Of course he’d willingly (and enthusiastically) let her have the reigns in this way as well. 
> 
> As I mentioned, there are a few fics that inspired this and I HIGHLY recommend them. The authors are SUBLIME and the stories are well crafted. I fell in love with the ideas of them spilling their competitive snark into the bedroom (good naturally of course) and I always had the idea of Anne completely dominating Gil but that small seed was brought into a more fleshed out idea and then plot once I read Ribbons and Lord Byron. Below, I’ve linked a few fics in particular. Please go read them and give the authors their deserved love.  
> [I Love Thee to the Depth My Soul Can Reach](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21355984) by cherry_knots  
> [My One and Only](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21567643/chapters/51419380) by ShirleyBlythe  
> [Ribbons and Lord Byron](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21416161/chapters/51025273) by Rozmund
> 
> As always, please don’t be shy and drop a comment on what you think! I thrive on validation and it honestly helps me continue to pursue writing when I know people actually like the content I create. I would love to hear any and all thoughts on this and who knows, maybe I'll churn something else out over the next few weeks!
> 
> I'm also around on tumblr at reddie-for-anything.tumblr.com. If you feel so inclined, come and chat! I have approx 1 friend in the awae fandom and I'd love to chat.


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